"Holly and the Demon at the Movies"
TW: This story features crude and vulgar language, graphic violence, and bad jokes. Reader discretion is advised.
“Hello,” greeted the employee. “What can I get for you?”
She frowned as darkly as possible. Didn’t even bother fixing the stray lock of brown hair.
She leaned over the counter, propped up on elbows. The yellow vest and the black shirt clashed, hideous. Not tucked into her high-waisted jeans.
No name tag on her left breast.
She wanted to die. Badly. Which was funny since, last time she checked, she had. Violently. Gruesomely.
Killed by the infamous Darling Death Dealer. Holly Slaughter. A wanted fugitive.
Serial killer. Spree killer. Mass murde—
One moment? Darkness. And flames. Lots of flames. Screaming too. Begging. Pleading.
Standing behind yet another counter.
Once again suffering the Hell of Customer Service. Forced to smile while being insulted, ignored, abused.
She wanted to die. And not just because of her chronic depression this time. Though that was still in play.
No Prozac. No happy little pills to keep the darkness at bay. Whatever had brought Angie back, it’d also affected things.
Her therapist no longer recognized her. Neither did her parents, nor her best friend, nor her landlord.
It was like she had never existed in the first place.
Other than the trauma. Even if she couldn’t remember exactly how she died, it still stuck to her. Pain. Fear.
The feeling of the knife going in. Seeing her face looming over—
Angie shook her head. Better not start another flashback. Derek, the manager of Collingswood 18, had warned her a thousand times already.
One more screaming fit and she was done. Finished. Fired.
Enough complaints were lodged.
“That one girl looked right through me, creepy!”
“I asked for some popcorn with butter and she just stood there, twitching, crazy bitch!”
“My son said hello and the young lady at the concession stand screamed her head off! Fire her!”
Bring it on. Angie looked forward to it.
She despised this job, loathed it, with a slight passion. Get it over with.
Set her free. Maybe she could finally put that noose to good use. Maybe this Hell would finally en—
The sixteen-year-old girl was staring at her. Sipping from an X-Tra Large Gulp bought elsewhere. Frowning.
The sixteen-year-old boy standing next to her scanned the electronic board behind Angie.
He bit a nail in thought.
“Do pretzels come with cheese dip?”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“Of course they do. Every place that serves pretzels has cheese dip on the side. Idiot.”
The boy’s eyes went left to right.
“I’m sorry. I just want to make sure.”
A newborn baby wailed. Its baggy-eyed mother gently bobbed the bundle up and down.
The teenaged couple behind them whispered. Girlish giggling. Hands roamed under a thin T-shirt.
The nerd with a neckbeard tried not to watch.
The Catholic schoolgirl paid no one any attention. Other than Angie, who found this odd.
She titled her head, blonde curls disturbed.
Angie walked to the right.
She passed by the popcorn dispenser.
She stopped at the pretzel dispenser. A small box emitting enough heat to burn. Which it had.
Multiple times. She slipped on a pair of plastic gloves.
From back down the counter:
“What movie are we seeing again?”
Aside from the humming of pretzels being turned. Warmed.
The Catholic schoolgirl had set the X-Tra large Gulp down. She was rummaging through her pockets.
“Um. AMAZING MAN v. RATGUY: DUSK OF HONOR.”
Angie moved mechanically. She pulled out two rather large salted pretzels.
Grabbed two plastic bags. Stuffed both inside.
The Catholic schoolgirl cringed.
“Christ, Dem. This shit?”
The boy—whose name was apparently Dem—tilted his head. Black hair swung.
Dem watched the Catholic schoolgirl anxiously.
“You… you don’t like… superhero movies?”
The Catholic schoolgirl smirked.
“You like C-G-I dogshit fests with the same story being told over and over again?”
“You like being forced to sit through countless post credit scenes, all to promote the next stain on cinematic art?”
“You like having to watch the lowest common dominator in the ass world of modern, corporate filmmaking in order to understand each interconnected piece of shit?”
She sat down the two bags.
The Catholic schoolgirl and Dem snapped their heads toward her.
The Catholic schoolgirl smiled. Snapped her fingers.
Angie smiled back. The first time in, well, ever.
She liked this girl in a school uniform. And not just because of the eyepatch.
Dem glanced at the bags containing his pretzels. Confusion sparked in gray eyes.
“Um. I asked for cheese dip.”
“Hold on a minute. I’m getting it.”
Angie walked into the employee’s only section. Humming the tune to THIS MAGICAL BOY ISN’T A HERO.
She passed by shelves covered in cardboard boxes. Some were empty, discarded. Others still held stuff.
Unsold 3D glasses. Themed popcorn buckets. A whole bunch of stuff theaters needed, but often couldn’t keep up front. Due to space.
Angie quickly found the cheese dip machine. She separated two little plastic cups from a stack.
She sat one under a nozzled proboscis.
Squeezed the trigger. Yellow-orange lava squirted free. The first cup was quickly filled to capacity.
She grabbed a lid from another stack. Snapped it on.
When Angie returned, a few things were different.
The Catholic schoolgirl and Dem. The mother and her baby. That horny couple.
She approached the counter. Sat down the pretzels and cheese dip.
Air conditioning hummed. From somewhere, gunfire. Muffled by sorta thick walls and padding.
Angie froze. Then peered over the counter.
The neckbeard laid on the floor. On his stomach. Blood and guts pooled under him.
… she gagged. His stomach had been torn open.
The boyfriend and girlfriend were also on the floor. On top of each other.
Blood puddles. Holes in their heads. The boyfriend had tried to shield her from…
The mother weakly slammed her bloodied hand.
Smiling against pain. Her eyes stared off into space.
“F-finally… finally, finally…”
She nearly asked her where it was.
… Angie didn’t want to look.
She’d do anything to not look.
But… she did. She slowly turned to her right.
The cotton candy machine was on. It rumbled, pulled and swirled. It hadn’t been on before.
“Finally… sweet… sweet… si… len… cccccccccceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…”
The giggling turned to croaking.
“I KNEW I recognized you.”
She suddenly felt metal being pressed against the back of her head.
“Pl-please… I… I… don’t want to die…”
“Did you have to shoot her?”
Holly sipped from her X-Tra Large Gulp. Smacked her lips.
“Aaaahhhhhhhhh,” she sighed.
They walked for a few seconds.
The demon looked all around.
Posters lined the walls of the corridor. Different movies coming soon.
One showed dinosaurs surrounding a daycare. It peered closer, even as It walked. There was no title.
Why market something only half way? Humans made no sense.
Another had a boy and girl. The girl was hanging upside down, backpack strap caught on the branch of a tree. The boy glared up at her.
A tagline ran beneath them.
The demon stopped looking around.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
From one auditorium came faint farting. Laughter.
She rolled her eye. Pissants. So far beneath her.
Smashing, crashing sounds. Indiscernible yelling.
She turned towards the demon.
“Hey. Why don’t we check this one out? KEVIN: KING OF KAIJU is so much better than some… slop.”
“Isn’t that all C-G-I monsters?”
“Well yeah, but the original Japanese version was filmed using suitmation.”
Holly sighed. “Just forget it.”
The sound of a chainsaw. Screaming.
She could see the guts. The blood. Holly felt her legs trembling.
The demon grabbed her free hand.
Number thirteen. At the way back.
Close to the fire exit doors. Sign glaring in darkness. It squeezed her hand.
Ice rattling within her X-Tra Large Gulp. Nearly empty.
“Let go of my #$@&ing hand.”
Holly brought her hand to her chest.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. The shadows hid it well.
Behind them, a door opened. Light footsteps on carpet.
In the corridor, it echoed. Like a bomb going off. A #$@&ing nuclear detonation.
The footsteps stopped. A growl. Then the footsteps resumed.
She saw the look on Its face. Her eye widened.
Reason overtook the spark.
“Oh. No. No, you didn’t. I jus—”
She moved quickly, faster than It could think. Her hand dipped into a pocket.
Grabbed a familiar handle.
She pulled out the Glock. Aimed it.
A 9mm Luger bullet flew through empty air. It spun counterclockwise.
It struck just under the chin. Entered. Blew past the roof of the mouth.
Entered again. Past the nose. Behind the eyes. Into the—
Bags and cups fell to the floor.
Pretzels shed their salt. Cheese dip slipped through a crack between lid and cup, staining carpet.
Hill Mist splashed everywhere.
But Holly didn’t care if her socks were wet. Not now.
The body swayed on its feet. Then gravity took over.
The body fell back. Head bouncing up and settling again. Laid, legs splayed.
Bits and pieces of shattered skull. Brain glob. Blood fountained from a gaping hole.
Holly felt warmth on her face. She glanced down.
She grinned. Poked her tongue out, dabbed the tip against this stain.
The demon flung Its hands and arms. Its pants clung to Its legs. Shoes squished.
“Cripes Holly! Give me a warning next ti—”
It didn’t have time to finish.
Lips met Its own. A tongue invaded the cavern of Its mouth, explored.
Hands pulled It closer. Pressed. Against.
Holly moaned low, like a cow. One leg curled around Its waist.
Its hands floundered about.
It stepped back, gasping for sweet air.
Holly smiled. Already horny drunk.
“I’m sorry. Can’t blame a girl.”
“I certainly can! You made me drop—”
“Who cares about a little spilled soda? Or blood. Oh, there’s so much of it! So red. So bright. Oh, god, I just need to—”
Her fingers twitched. Nerves were on fire.
Drool hung from one corner of her mouth. Hunger gnawed at shame.
The demon wanted to look away. It shook Its head in disgust. It couldn’t though.
Holly must’ve contaminated It. Yeah.
Yeah. That’s it. She’d spread her sickness to It.
The eyes rolled back into their sockets.
Tall. Yellow vest over black dress shirt.
The black trousers met a pair of black shoes. Polished often.
The man cracked his neck. His blood stopped flowing.
The demon stepped back. It looked up at the man.
But the man didn’t notice It. All his attention was focused on…
… Holly’s finger twitched. She pulled the trigger.
This time, it struck his eye. Popped it like a balloon.
Went through his brain. Out the back of his bald head.
The man didn’t even flinch.
His eyes were light black. But only on the outside. Behind this mask was… nothing.
There was no soul. There never had been. Just an emptiness that spoke of conflict.
She didn’t look down. Couldn’t.
She could only stare up at the man.
Not the fake kind she so often cultivated.
Holly was a master of acting, pretending. Masking herself.
Nothing had gone as planned.
… the man reached out. Swiped the Glock out of her hands.
He positioned it between both hands, giant hands, scarred hands.
Crumpled it up. Flattened it.
Shards of steel and polymer rained down.
Its pants started melting. The acrid scent of acid mingled with metallic blood. They mixed.
Forming an utter nightmare.
Like a dance. Between prey and predator.
“What the heck is that thing?!”
Holly dug through her pockets. “I don’t #$@&ing know!”
She grabbed something sphere-shaped. Out came a grenade.
She tossed it behind her.
The man caught it in his hands. Looked at it.
An explosion sent them flying.
The demon got amazing air time. Its horns stabbed into the ceiling.
It glanced down. Swung from side to side.
An audible crack. And she knew. Her arm was out of its socket.
She slid to the floor. One good eye caught his.
The blast had done some damage. A shit ton.
Flesh peeled away in scorched patches. His uniform hung in tatters, blood gushing from exposed veins. Bones greeted naked air.
One of his arms dangled by a thread. Fingers had been blown off.
… he still came. Walking on two legs.
Holly saw her X-Tra Large Gulp. It laid on the floor, spilled.
She reached into her pocket again. Pain could be ignored, but it still affected.
The demon grunted. It pressed both hands against the ceiling. Trying desperately to dislodge…
It saw Holly fishing around. The man walked calmly toward her.
A demon? An angel? An automaton?
There were many things, many options. A lot of these were terrible. A few downright hopeless. The demon thought.
It remembered something It’d seen on a spotty motel TV one night. Some sci-fi movie from the 80s. About a woman who found out her unborn child would become the savior of mankind.
Leader of a resistance against robotic hordes.
She slowly pulled out a second pistol.
It cupped a hand over Its mouth.
“I think this guy might be an Exterminator!”
The man lifted his foot. Brought it down.
Holly screamed. She tried to pull her hand free. The man just ground it down.
He watched as she struggled. Impassively.
Coolly. As if none of this interested him. The demon shuddered.
It resumed Its own fight. Flakes of ceiling fell.
It pulled. And pulled. Pulled. But Its horns were deep.
Holly glanced across the lobby. Past all the bodies, victims. Her eye found…
… she pulled the trigger.
Ricocheted against a metal icecream box. Came back.
The man jolted. His eyes rose, fell.
A hole appeared in his chest. The bullet exited.
The window shattered. Holly shielded her head with her free arm.
The bullet found its home in the skull of a robber holding a shotgun.
The cashier slowly lowered his arms.
Back at Collingswood 18, Holly peeked.
The man stood over her. A teardrop of blood trickled down his chest.
The man grabbed her throat. Tightened. Lifted her off the glass-riddled floor.
She swung her arms. Beat at his.
Tried to kick him in the nuts. He simply tightened his grip.
Its horns slid inch by inch. Flakes turned to rain.
It flailed Its arms, flipped over again and again.
The man stared her in the eye. Watching.
He let go. She choked as she fell.
His arm reached out, grabbed the demon by Its own throat.
Then squeezed. Its windpipe collapsed. Its eyes widened. A stray claw caught the man’s eyeball. It pulled free.
Clutched at Its now crumpled neck. Wheezing.
The man reached for his dangling eyeball.
The man squeaked. He looked down.
Holly dropped the bloody shard of glass. She scrambled to her feet.
He took a step. And his leg buckled. He fell forward, landing on his knees.
His achilles heel tore even wider.
Holly darted around, grabbing the demon’s hand. Its eyes bulged out of their sockets.
She took a deep breath. Croaked out:
It didn’t understand. It pointed at Its throat.
They ran down the same corridor as before.
Past a few doors behind which came various sounds. Someone crying in despair.
A crowd whooping and hollering, clapping like seals.
Holly chose one at random. Auditorium Five.
Without missing a beat, she flung the door open. Shoved the demon through. Then slammed the door shut.
… the man knelt. Rubbing at his bleeding foot.
That was to be expected. Light shone down from a large screen, heaven.
“But Jerry, we can’t get married!”
Dramatic, overwhelming horns blared from surround sound speakers.
Holly and the demon ducked. They fell to their knees.
No one else was present. Just them.
“Holy,” she gasped. “Shit.”
The demon was beginning to turn yellow. It kept pointing at Its throat.
Which slowly began to uncrumple. Bones fixed themselves. Skin straightened out.
And the demon breathed again.
In fact, it practically dragged air into Its screaming lungs. Once. Twice.
It spat out a wad of spit.
Holly was careful not to touch it.
It looked at her with tears in Its eyes.
“Why… why did you shoot him?!”
“I don’t… I didn’t know this would…”
“We’re going up against something that can’t be killed, Holly! Can’t you see that?!”
“Of… of course. I can. It’s just…”
“... Everything can be killed, Dem. Anything.”
“Till death do you part.”
“What did we ever do to him?”
“We?! You mean you! I didn’t bring in outside food and drink! Nor did I shoot him!”
“No, no, that can’t be it.”
“... what if, say, we crushed him?”
The demon curled an eyebrow.
“... shit, I’ve got nothing.”
The demon bashed Its head against the floor.
“W-wait! You don’t have to do this!”
Holly slowly turned her head.
The demon nodded, frowning.
“Really? Who’s the brainless dick-puppet who wanted to go see D-Class slop in the first place?”
Holly slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth.
Faint light shone down. A beam.
The man held a flashlight. She realized that he was also standing.
Even though she’d cut through his achilles heel.
Holly and the demon kept still. So very still. They didn’t even breathe, much less thought.
The beam cut through an aisle. Passed over empty seats in desperate need of repair. Or a flamethrower. It stopped.
And then, the man started moving.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Holly internally screamed.
She looked at the demon. It looked back.
They read each other’s eyes.
Began to crawl slowly, ever slowly backwards. Away as he came forward.
The demon avoided spilled popcorn. A discarded cup crawling with ants.
It felt something sticky. Hoped that was candy melt-fused to the floor.
Not what It thought it was.
His shape lumbered into view. He took one step. Another. Working through the pain.
Holly wondered. Who was he? What was he?
She knew he wasn’t human. Obviously. No human could withstand this much damage.
The predator within her took stock.
She’d seen enough horror movies. Watched them religiously, for pleasure.
While other girls her age were glued to Dollie’s Dreamhouse, she partook in slashers. B-movie shlock. Torture porn.
And she learned. Certain monsters had certain weaknesses. Things one can count on to put them down.
And she assumed that, since demons were real, then monsters were real too.
… the man couldn’t have been a zombie. You could re-kill the living dead via headshots. Destroy the brain.
She already did that. Put two in him.
He hadn’t transformed into a furry beast, howled, growled. Hadn’t tried to maul them.
And plus his heart was already popped.
Holly lowered her hand from the demon’s mouth.
The man stopped walking. They stopped crawling.
He stood in the aisle. Light from the screen played over torn, mangled flesh.
He watched as credits rolled.
Holly and the demon glanced at each other. Confused.
But Holly was still thinking.
It was like… he just wanted to kill them.
There was no rage, no emotion. Simply a need to end them both. Her specifically.
Dem was just a bonus. An accessory. Holly had instigated this whole shitstorm.
The man acted rationally. Mechanically. As if he was a robot.
He reached the next row. Disappeared from view.
The demon gestured with Its head.
Not yet. Still too close.
It pleaded with Its eyes.
It swallowed silently. Got the message.
They crawled forward. Back the way they came.
Holly caught glimpses between the seats.
The man stood near the screen.
He looked up at it. Transfixed. Caught in its fantastical glow.
His arms hung by his sides.
Holly glanced around. There had to be something, anything.
She knew humans all too well.
They never followed the rules. Never silenced their phones. Never kept quiet during the movie.
Never threw away their trash.
Of course, screw the rules.
She found what she was looking for. A smirk crossed pale lips.
She reached for the discarded cup.
Ants sensed her presence. They ran.
The demon peered over her shoulder. It arched an eyebrow.
Holly glanced Its way. She tilted her head and pointed. It followed her gaze to…
… It nearly yelped. Flailed Its hand, the used condom flopping.
She plucked it off. Gently. A single gleaming eye found Its saucer-sized own.
She pinched it between two fingertips. Crawled toward the demon. It backed away.
She peeked out from behind a seat. Aimed.
Flung the condom like a deflated balloon.
The inseminated projectile flew. Sailed over row after row. The demon watched as—
The man dropped his flashlight, which rolled. He turned left and right.
He ran a hand against the back of his head. Tried to pull off the condom.
Couldn’t. It was stuck. Bio-glued.
He tried even harder and still failed.
Holly grabbed Its hand. She stood up and bolted out of the aisle. It stumbled along.
Their shoes met popcorn landmines. The man’s head twisted around.
“I think I know,” Holly yelled. “He’s a dumbass with a soiled dick-diaper on his bowling ball head!”
Holly dug through her pockets.
She pulled out a large butcher knife.
They reached the auditorium door. But Holly didn’t push through.
Instead she turned around. One hand met Its chest. A grim smile met Its frown.
“... I think I know how to stop him.”
He had already forgotten about the condom. It swung with each step.
His eyes could burn a hole through steel. Gone was the anger. Hatred boiled within.
He wielded the flashlight again.
The demon spun on Its heels. Or what passed for heels on cloven hooves.
“Then tell me! But not here! Definitely not here!”
It grabbed the front of her vest. Pushed and pulled.
Stole glances at an approaching menace.
“... we need him in range.”
The demon’s lips trembled.
His flashlight seemed so heavy.
It could bash in a skull. Their skulls.
Once. Twice. Maybe he wouldn’t stop until—
And Holly spun It around.
A geyser of black blood spewed forth.
Hot enough to create steam. Holly felt the heat against her face. She liked it.
It struggled. A claw reached up, tried to nab her.
She grabbed one of Its horns. Pulled it back.
Forcing Its head back. The slit tore open even wider. This gave more leeway for the blood.
The man didn’t have a chance.
Found open wounds. Exposed nerves.
Pain found him next. True pain. The kind he’d never felt before.
He opened his mouth to scream.
Blood cascaded inside, down his throat.
Holly grinned like a hyena.
Kicked the demon forward.
The man felt his skin melting away. Fat. Muscles.
He tried to shield himself with his good arm. Another mistake.
The demon’s vision grew spotty. Blurry.
She raised both arms up in victory.
The man fell. The demon fell forward, landing on top.
Through it all, Holly watched.
The demon woke up screaming.
It reached for Its throat. Fully expecting to find a gash bigger than the Grand Canyon.
But no. Only taut skin-like scales.
Holly sat on top of a seat. Light played across her side profile.
She sipped from an XX-Tra Large Gulp.
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